Sunday, September 14, 2008

Importing the Contemporary World into Religious Writings: Hermeneutical Problems in Interpreting Religious Texts

When studying religious traditions from a critical point of view, there are inevitably several problems that will arise. In particular, the proper interpretation of religious texts is an especially difficult and demanding task, for each interpreter that attempts to analyze these texts will bring personal preconceptions to the writings. Thus, a key concern for anyone who seeks to earnestly understand religious texts from a clinical point of view, is how one is to prevent one’s personal background from influencing one’s reading of the texts, and, furthermore, what sort of methodology might one adopt in order to approach the texts from a point of view that preserves the intrinsic integrity of such texts. These are some important considerations that both Bynum and Huntington address in their papers.

Inevitably when reading a religious text, one is disposed to impose one’s own personal life-experiences into the text. Hence, any two people who read a religious text might have significant differences in opinion in regards to the writing’s proper interpretation. For example, a fourteenth century Catholic priest would likely interpret the creation accounts of Genesis 1-2 quite differently from a twenty-first century religious studies student. Similarly, a contemporary Evangelical Protestant’s reading of the Epistle of James would likely differ from a Roman Catholic reading of the same epistle (especially with regards to 2:14-26 on faith and works). Hence, there are considerable disagreements which arise over the interpretation of religious texts from one person to another, and such predispositions are difficult to overcome. Thus, many interpreters will employ various methods in order to separate themselves from personal bias and to better understand the texts’ meaning.

However, methodologies themselves are problematic, which Bynum and Huntington both acknowledge. For example, many modern critical methodologies are largely twenty and twenty-first century western constructions presuming to properly understand people(s) from different eras and cultures. Bynum notes that modern scholarship often emphasizes sex and money, which “may tell us more about the twentieth century than the late Middle Ages” (“Introduction” 1). This is clear, Bynum explains, since the medieval thinkers were far more concerned with gluttony and hunger, which had to do with the preparation of the reception of the Eucharist (2-4).

Similarly, Huntington picks up this issue explaining that there are many interpretive difficulties in understanding the Mādhyamika literature due to its recent introduction to the west (“Methodological Considerations” 9). In particular, Huntington remarks that there are many interpretive problems for western scholars who read a literary tradition that is so foreign to them. Huntington maintains that it is essential to understand the background and context of the text in order to understand the piece itself (9). Similarly, Bynum emphasizes the importance of this as well, stating “women’s behavior and women’s writing must be understood in the context of social, economic, and ecclesiastical structures, theological and devotional traditions, very different from our own” (“Introduction” 9).

Hence, both Bynum and Huntington address the issue of coming to a richer understanding of the background of a text. Accordingly, Bynum attempts to separate herself from any potential personal spiritual concerns that she may bring to the texts and states that her research is not concerned with whether the miracles she considers are “true”. Rather, she is concerned about the stories that interested the medieval audience (8). However, this separation of the verifiability of miracles from the interests of the audience of the era is also problematic. Huntington draws attention to this problem; in particular, Huntington makes a comparison between the text-critical method (which he maintains is unconcerned with questions about meaning) and the alternative “proselytic” model (“Methodological Considerations” 6). Furthermore, he points out that “strict adherence to the text-critical and proselytic models constitutes a violation of the very texts we bring to our study” (8). Accordingly, Huntington’s methodological approach includes principles of “text-critical scholarship while simultaneously rejecting the largely unstated presuppositions of “objectivity” that normally accompany them” (12-13). Hence, Huntington asserts his position that the objective position is not necessarily the most fruitful method for approaching a religious text. Bynum also remarks on the futility of taking a single approach and states that historians could gain a lot by making use of “anthropology, sociology and art history” (“In Praise of Fragments: History in the Comic Mode”15 ).

Thus, Bynum and Huntington both demonstrate some of the issues involved in textual interpretation. They shed light on the problems of bringing personal predispositions to texts, the problems of a strictly “objective” approach to the text, and the problems of approaching a text with a single method. Moreover, they emphasize the importance for understanding the world behind the text for the proper interpretation of the text (especially in a contemporary western setting). In summation, I believe that the problems described in these essays demonstrates the importance of a collaborative approach to studying religious texts, because personal prejudices and seemingly all methodological approaches to religious texts have their limitations which may only begin to be rectified by the synthesizing of ideas.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hi Andrew,
I think you make an essential point in the very first paragraph of your post. Any textual hermeneutics necessarily entails reading into the text to some extent, but this is perhaps heightened when interpreting religious texts. Why? I think your choice of vocabulary is quite telling. If the attempt is to understand a religious text ‘clinically’, as you put it, the interpretation risks lacking a necessary sensitivity in relating to the text. To read, to interpret is a highly dialogical, even multi-logical undertaking that, like any other relationship, requires at least some degree of sensitivity. What necessitates a higher degree of sensitivity when dealing with a religious text, I think, is the non-clinical nature of the work. The clinician is a scientists with a highly polished, organized and rational methodological arsenal, whereas the religious text treads more softly, with lighter feet and is not as weighed down by gravity. The religious text speaks to and draws out the heart, calling it to read it, to enter into it and be transformed by it. The clinical method is heavier, perhaps not lofty enough to enter into such a texts and so it risks violating the softer texts, the religious texts.

Adam Asgarali said...

Hi Andrew,
I agree with your thoughts, particularly about the importance of preventing one's own biases from influencing the interpretation of texts and traditions. My question with this is the level to which this can be done effectively. One interesting idea I encountered in the philosophy of language was the idea of meaning as a product of subject rather than object. In this way, its difficult to clearly distinguishing what a text is saying itself and what I, the reader, think it is saying. This may seem trivial, but I think that our very capacity to interpret something is directly connected to our own flow of thoughts, modes of reasoning, etc. Even if we are to somehow separate from our experiences when reading a text, we are still operating according to our own unique model of reasoning, understanding, logic, etc. and how I make sense of a particular statement can be drastically different from yours.
Even if we appeal to the "self-evident" nature of the literal wording of the text, I wonder if we could actually gain a clear understanding in this way. After all, we would need a context of some sort. Just some thoughts I had.
Also, I really like the idea you mention at the end of bringing together many or all methodologies in studying religious traditions. Again though, I wonder if this allows for a truly penetrating understanding of the significance of a tradition to itself. I definitely think that if we bring together all the methods of study, we could create a complex and rich understanding of a tradition, but I still feel that such a technique would be missing, in someway, the essential meaning of the tradition. I find it hard to neglect the aspect of experience in studying a particular phenomenon, that is, the understanding that comes from being directly affected by the object in question. Specifically dealing with religion, I wonder how much the experience of actual belief and conviction can affect one's understanding. i.e. how much is the epistemological domain affected by the experiential? Then again, would could also ask the inverse...
This reminds me of the famous article by Thomas Nagel "What Is It Like to Be a Bat?", which deals with the question of how much we can know about being a bat, short of actually being a bat ourselves. Just some thoughts.
-Adam

Amy said...

Hi Andrew,

In opening paragraph of your blog you formulate this week’s theme, the problem of bringing one’s own preconceptions to the analysis of a religious text. This problem is of particular importance to me with regards to my project. Many, if not most, classical Sanskrit texts have lengthy commentaries written in many cases centuries after the original text was produced. To complicate things further, these Sanskrit commentaries are joined by Hindi commentaries on both the text and the Sanskrit commentary. Unfortunately, given how old these texts are it is impossible to read them without their commentaries. Certain words, turns of phrase, etc. would be incomprehensible to modern day readers without the help of these additional works. My problem then is not only how I might mitigate the effects of my own preconceptions but how I will wade through two other people’s prejudices and preconceptions to get at the text itself. At this point, I have to ask, is it even possible for me to have a “clinical reading”? I have to abandon the text-critical method and admit that the text will never speak for itself. At the same time, however, I am balking at accepting the position of the strong-textualist. Perhaps you are right. It maybe that the only way to begin to rectify the problem is through multiple methodological approaches.

Amy

Andrew said...

In response to Adam,

Thanks Adam for your response. I totally appreciate your comments about whether it is even possible to become entirely detached from a subject (in light of using such basic things as reasoning and logic). I would, initially, agree with you on that point about being bound to our use of reasoning, logic, etc. However, I would still consider even with such basic principals, are we entirely bound to them? Is it possible for one to even tear away these very deeply ingrained layers of what we might still call “preconceptions” or “predispositions”. I mean to say that, for example, it seems to me that people have the ability to both think inductively or deductively. If we think inductively, we will naturally build our logical rules based on what we experience or what we believe is possible for one to experience. Furthermore, for the inductive thinker, one’s life experience will constantly be impacting the way they employ logic since they will be experiencing new things everyday. Thus, such a scholar will constantly be looking at a religious text with a fresh eye (due to their experiences). Thus, I would contend that it is possible for our methods of reasoning to change (at least if you think inductively). Hence, I would say in response to your epistemological question that we are very much influenced by our experiences.

I loved your comment at the end of your response to me about Nagel’s “What Is It Like to Be a Bat?” A very strong point and issue for us to really keep in mind. I suppose one could take this point to an extreme end in religious studies to the point that, for example, I must become a Jain to understand what it’s like to be a Jain. Of course, for one to do this, objectivity is lost. Thanks again for the issues to consider. Much appreciated.

Andrew